Letters From The Sky
by Oakdownpianist
Summary: 'Cause even though you left me here I have nothing left to fear/These are only walls that hold me here


_Tell me you __**love**__ me and you'll be there,_  
_If I __**don't cry**__ it doesn't mean I don't __**care,**_  
_You say you're __**sorry**__ and I have to __**leave,**_  
_If I tell you__** the truth,**__ you won't believe…_

_—_

By the time he arrived it was already dark. The lights in the corridor had been dimmed for the evening, the moon outside barely visible through its blanket of dark clouds. A storm coming, he thought. Appropriate.

And so Koschei stood there in the shadows, flowers clutched between sweaty palms, for what felt like hours. It was completely ridiculous, how nervous he was. The heir of Oakdown - one of the greatest Houses on Gallifrey - reduced to an awkward mess and all over an Oldblood. But time, it flowed around him, _caressed_ him. A warning and he knew in his gut that the actions he chose to follow through next would change everything. He took a deep breath and knocked.

No answer.

It certainly wasn't unusual, he mused, for his friend not to be around. After all, his visit had hardly been planned and the graduation dance was still dragging on, its music audible even from the dorms. But he had been sure that the blonde head he spied leaving the hall was the right one… Theta had never been fond of dancing with strangers and Koschei, well as much as he would have appreciated the offer, their fight was still too recent to put aside, even just for the evening. Another knock and still no answer. Perhaps he had been wrong after all.

Still, the weight of what he had done the night before refused to let him give up. He stepped back, letting himself slip down the wall to sit. Laughter drifted up the stairs and for a moment he was jealous. This was not how he had meant to spend the 'best night of his life so far'. The plan had been to get completely drunk on good Shobogan cider and dance with his friends until they were too exhausted to do so much as stand. The plan had been to give Theta flowers and finally tell him how he felt, to run away with him. But all that had gone down the drain the moment he had lost control. Struck out. The dark bruise around his friend's eye was burnt into his mind, a constant reminder of how broken he was, how dangerous. And now those same flowers were a token of his regret, instead of his love.

Rising, he was just about to knock again for the last time when something slammed into him. He spun, ready to defend himself against some kind of bully or angry professor looking for a fight but it was only Drax, bleary-eyed and quite clearly drunk. The other muttered an apology before hurriedly continuing on his way. Just as he was about to turn the corner however, he seemed to realise just who it was he'd run into.

"That you, Ko?" He squinted through the dim light.

Koschei nodded, embarrassed at having been caught out. Still, he figures, if Drax had just come from the Great Hall - and the state of him suggested he had - then perhaps he would know whether Theta was still there. He cleared his throat, forced a smile and called back:

"Sure is. You haven't seen our glorious leader around recently have you?"

"Wait… Haven't you heard?" Drax frowned, seeming to sober up slightly. "He- well he's already gone, mate. Been talking all evening about this banged-up old Type 40 he's had his eye on and then a couple hours ago he just vanished. I thought you'd gone with him…"

The other's eyes drifted towards the flowers and the remaining glee drained from his face. Without another word, he left.

Gone. He was just…

_Gone_.

The word coiled in his gut, wrapped itself around his mind. It didn't make sense. Surely his friend, the boy he had spent hundreds of years with, the boy who had always looked out for him and protected him from the bullies- surely he would not just disappear. Not after everything they'd done.

His eyes began to fill as he turned away, fists clenched hard. He promised himself then that this would not be the end. He'd track Theta down and make him see sense, no matter what it took. Before he walked off entirely however, he bent down and gently left the flowers beside the door, in memorial of all that he'd lost that night.

In his grief, he didn't notice the light suddenly filtering out from the cracks in the frame. Didn't notice the door opening as he descended the stairs to the Hall. Did not notice the slender hand that pulled the bouquet inside, or the quiet crying of another boy who had lost just as much.

—

It was hundreds of years later when he found himself back outside Theta's door; a blue one this time, chipped and worn, but surprisingly sturdy for its age. He hadn't bothered with the flowers this time, knowing that they wouldn't be appreciated. Instead he held a small brown paper bag, full to the brim with something he was sure the other would snap up without a second thought.

The first knock yielded no results and neither did the second, or the third. But he didn't move. He wouldn't make that mistake, not again.

When the door finally (after the fifth or maybe sixth knock maybe, it was hard to tell) did open he forced himself in without so much as a hello, dumping the bag of jelly babies into the tweed-clad man's hands. By that point in their lives, words were barely needed. After a quick inspection however, he felt forced to say something.

"Is that a _bow tie_? Oh stars…"

—

**Author's note - Lyrics at the start credited to Billy Lockett. Doctor Who is of course not mine (sadly) and nor are any of the characters shown here. Written for fun and not any kind of profit.**

**Please feel free to favourite if you enjoyed this and if you didn't, then leave a review to tell me why. Con-crit is always appreciated! 3**


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